I can feel it under my skin,
The sickness that did you in.
It haunts me like your ghost,
Lurking more days than most.
I cannot be certain it will surface,
But all I can remember is your face.
The way the life drained from your eyes,
The small breath as you died.
One day it will find me here,
Quivering in a secret fear.
If this disease will take me too,
At least it will take me to you.